


Mark Me

by LoveIsAMyth (sweetponzu)



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Aromantic, Codependency, Denial, Depression, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Misguided Youth, Multi, Physical Abuse, Unhealthy Relationships, Unresolved Romantic Tension, note: a lot of these pairings are one sided or not rlly much of a pairing in the way u might think, or so i hope, tattoo!AU, wow i swear the tags are making it way worse than it rlly is
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-01-11
Packaged: 2018-05-10 21:17:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5601313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetponzu/pseuds/LoveIsAMyth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tattoo!AU. Everyone is born with their own unique tattoo and every time you fall in love with someone, their tattoo appears somewhere on your body, as if your blood seeps out of your skin to mark it, make it clear that you’ve been touched by someone for the rest of your life. </p><p>Seungcheol and Jeonghan are a highly successful veteran idol duo with underlying problems. Wonwoo’s a Tattoo artist with only a single Mark in his body, his own. Seokmin’s deep in depression and Soonyoung is trying his best as his best friend but it may soon prove to not be enough. Chan is an outcast in school but yearns, deep down for a Mark to appear on his skin one day. Boo Seungkwan is best friends with Choi Hansol and he wants things to stay that way. Mingyu has the perfect relationship, blessed by the legends of Marked Soulmatehood. Jihoon is covered in marks, of the black and blue variety. Junhui is working two and a half jobs to support himself and Minghao whom he took in because he was someone’s son’s cousin of someone who knew Junhui’s parents. Jisoo wants to continue on in life unnoticed but a scandal will ruin all that he’s worked for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Foreword

**Seungcheol**  is in a popular idol duo with Jeonghan and everyone knows that Seungcheol is dating someone not within the industry– its a happy, private relationship as far as anyone knows.

 **Jeonghan**  is tired of his career and wants to do something else, something, anything to get away from people whose words feel as false as the make up caked on his face.

 **Jisoo**  is just trying to live life unnoticed, holding fast onto beliefs impressed on him as a child by strongly religious parents. But the existence of Marks make it hard for him.

 **Mingyu** ’s girlfriend might, quite possibly according to Mark Soulmate legends, be the  _one_. But he wasn’t going to hold onto her if she couldn’t understand that his hyung needed him.

 **Jihoon**  doesn’t know how things went so wrong. Doesn’t know where all the sweet, light feelings that he’d felt had gone, only unease and the unyielding hope he holds within him that somehow, things will change for the better as long as he stayed.

 **Wonwoo** , as a tattoo artist, is not very well liked for his profession. Tattoo artists were Satan’s little helpers, assisting in deceit and tarnishing the sanctity of Marks. Wonwoo doesn’t care because it pays enough to live comfortably; he just wishes that his customers would stop asking him why he doesn’t have any other Mark aside from his own.

 **Soonyoung** ’s best friend,  **Seokmin**  is depressed as all hell and suicidal. He tries to be a good friend and some days are better than others– some days he’s smiley, warm and bubbly others he’d just cry or stare out into space or look longingly at Soonyoung’s kitchen knives. It’s hard but Soonyoung is determined to be there for Seokmin every step of the way– that is until Seokmin tells him he loves Soonyoung and Soonyoung’s Mark imprints itself on Seokmin’s left wrist.

 **Junhui**  works two jobs and a half to keep his apartment and support  **Minghao**  who is an illegal immigrant trying to get a permanent residency status somehow– he took him in because he was someone’s son’s cousin of someone who knew Junhui’s parents. It’s weird but he likes caring for people so its fine in the beginning but then Minghao gets clingy and develops feelings and he wants to reciprocate– he really does but he’s Aromantic and all that he can offer is his companionship and support and that’s just never enough for most people.

 **Seungkwan**  and  **Hansol**  are childhood friends. They shared everything growing up and going to different school’s wasn’t going to change that. But Seungkwan thinks that having Vernon’s Mark appear on his skin may just do the trick.

 **Chan**  is the class outcast in his new high school. He liked observing people, most especially their marks. He really just wants someone, anyone’s Mark to appear on his skin. Someone whose skin will be covered in his own, just  _someone please_.

 

* * *

 

A/N: I feel like all of this is a little TMI but it’ll help people understand whats really happening in the vignettes. This is actually taken from my own timeline and relationship notes so it may be a little messy. Inspiration is taken from a [post](http://knowledge-frustrated-sumiku.tumblr.com/post/135826878475/empressnacho-eryuko-spookymileskane-au) on tumblr-- I also credit on my tumblr saythenameGotBang17fics.tumblr.com

Thank you for taking the time to read this.  **I hope you enjoy it! And if you do, don’t forget to Upvote, Subscribe and Comment to support this story for the Supernatural!AU contest held by 6veryday on[AFF](http://www.asianfanfics.com/story/view/1066567)!**


	2. my mind runs away to you

     Morning. The 967 bus is filled with the same people who take the 7:45 am route every week day. Chan can pick out a handful of people he knows through route memory. Up front, on the seats reserved for the elderly and disabled was a guy wearing black slacks and a dark worker’s shirt, looking down on his phone intently. It would be considered rude to sit on those seats but Chan knew he worked for the grocery store at the stop right after the next one coming up. He seemed like a dutiful guy, always on time wearing the proper attire for work, so it had stopped bothering Chan that he sat on those seats after a while.

     The business man that was always on his Bluetooth receiver, talking fast paced about a document or another, wasn’t lucky enough to grab a seat this morning, so he stands with the support of the low-hanging handle bars. The constant shaking of the bus worries down on his sleeve and it shows enough of his forearm that he sees a Mark there that never was. The business man wore a silver ring on his left ring finger, ever since Chan had started observing him. But this Mark, almost like an overgrown web of ivy vines, was new.  _He’s cheating on his wife._ Chan ducks his head away, his stomach feeling heavier from the thought.

     He looks to a cluster of small, old ladies in the middle lane seats, close to both exits, just the way they liked. They’ve once corralled him into their conversation, as they recounted stories behind each of their Marks, the men who were good, the ones who really weren’t and the ones that they should have held onto. He left with a handful of candies and permanently mussed hair that day. Right now, they are sharing stories about their grandchildren. How delighted they were to hear of stories about their Marks, how their eyes sparkled at the thought of getting many of their own. Chan knows this same song and dance. He knows, because he’s had the same thoughts, the same childish eagerness and excitement over the idea of acquiring Marks for himself. He knows better than to hope he’ll have any right now, maybe after high school, but not right now.

     He looks to a couple walking in, a pair of students, he doesn’t recognize them so he tenses before relaxing once he realizes that their uniforms aren’t the same as his. They’re swinging their hands, fingers laced together, as they find empty seats. There are none, the girl gives a frustrated huff and Chan would have offered his seat up but her boyfriend kisses her hand in his and leads her towards the handle bars. Chan feels his cheeks warm while letting go of his grip on his bag. It’s obvious that they’re smitten and stuck in their own world. Even more obvious was their Marks, proudly shown by their rolled up sleeves, that were perfectly aligned on their wrists. A lot of people in his school gossip about how perfectly aligned marks meant that the couple was meant to be.  _Soulmates_ , they’d whisper, followed by fluttery giggles. 

     Such a thing couldn’t help identify soulmates, that wasn’t how the Marks worked, Chan wanted to say. But no one cared about his opinions; no one would even acknowledge his presence. He releases a relieved sigh when his stop arrives. 

 

\------

 

     The greatest irony of Jisoo’s life must be that his Mark was a black cross. It was thin, the size of his pinky, located on the skin before his hair line met his ear’s outer shell. Its design is very minimal which helped since it made it easier to hide underneath the swathe of his hair. It actually suited Jisoo just fine, if not for the fact that he’s a Christian. It’s blasphemous to prance around wearing a cross but it’s not as if Jisoo could have really done anything about it. Even in his earliest memories, he could remember his mother repeatedly commanding him to hide his mark. It was blasphemous, she said. She would not tolerate such disrespect for God and his son, Jesus.

     It’s curious that Jesus’ own mark was a cross topped with a thorn crown. But Jisoo has never been taught to question anything, as a young child. He doesn’t plan on changing either.

     Change was scary. 

     Life is just easier, living quietly, in the backs of people’s consciousness, out of sight. He makes a mental note to buy some snacks to bring for the children at the hospital.

 

\------

 

     “Hey, how’re you feeling?” 

     “Never better.”

     Soonyoung’s eye brows bunch together, “You don’t sound good, actually.”

     “Have you taken your meds yet?” He flits over to the cabinets and Seokmin’s eyes follow the curve of his neck, tracing it down to his broad, reliable shoulders. Soonyoung grabs one of the orange pill containers, rattles it in his hand, as he rummages through the kitchen. “You don’t mind if I just heat up the oolong tea in the fridge, right?” He calls out to Seokmin. 

Seokmin was too distracted by the breeze coming in through Soonyoung’s opened balcony to hear Soonyoung. The sheer curtains fluttering and dancing with the wind’s tune felt hypnotic to him, almost pulling him to them. 

     “Hey,” A hand grabs his arm, as he’s halfway there, “I’ve got the tea right here. Cold is fine, right?” Soonyoung’s wearing an odd smile and Seokmin just tilts his head to consider what it means as Soonyoung tugs him back towards the couch. 

     “You take two of these now and the small blue one two hours after, right?” Seokmin doesn’t recall and Soonyoung didn’t expect an answer. Soonyoung holds his hand, turning it palms up and places the two pills on Seokmin’s hand. He watches intently as Seokmin’s Adam's apple bob up and down, consuming the liquid and drugs. He promptly turns to close his balcony, the little rays of sunshine locked out, before proposing a movie day with a wide smile and cheery voice. 

     Seokmin feels cold in the dark but he tries his best to make the corners of his lips stretch into a mockery of a smile, as the drugs kick in, blurring the edges of his reality between flying out through the balcony and sitting in Soonyoung’s couch.

 

\------

 

     Mingyu liked making out with Yeri, the little mewls she made as she pulls down on her linked arms around his neck made Mingyu feel good about himself. The constant beeping of his phone was quickly ruining the mood though, as Yeri kept pulling away to look towards his jacket pocket. She pulls away completely once it started blasting his ringtone. He sighs and runs his hand through his hair. He throws her a small smile before turning away to check on who it was. Mingyu swears, if this was Hansol pestering him about skipping school to “smooch” with his girlfriend again-- he’d punch him the very next time he sees him. 

     But it wasn’t Hansol. He frowns, his forehead creasing with worry as he answers the call. “Jihoon-hyung? Whats wrong?” He clutches his phone close, as he waits with bated breath for a response. 

 

\------

 

     “Seventeen’s second take will resume in thirty minutes!” They bow and make their thanks before heading towards their designated waiting area.

     Today’s been a long day and they weren’t even halfway through all of their scheduled appearances yet. Surprisingly, Seungcheol wasn’t getting worn down. His smile stayed the same from the moment he greeted Jeonghan in the morning till now. It was suspicious.

     “Hyung, can I have you pick this up for me while we’re doing the fanmeet later?” Seungcheol asks one of their managers, pointing towards something on his phone.

     “Aish, you did something to upset your girlfriend again?” The manager teases, “You should just ask to marry her already, since she’s put up with you this long.” He winks for added effect before agreeing to pick up whatever cheesy present Seungcheol bought.

     Jeonghan sidles up to the other after their manager has left and the waiting room was a little emptier, peeking at what it was. A cheesy monstrosity is what it was. A stuffed bear about five foot tall with a cute forlorn expression highlighted by a large cartoonish tear under its left button eye, holding a heart that held the words “Is it too late now to say sorry?”. Jeonghan rolls his eyes. 

     “Hyung’s right, whoever your girlfriend is; she deserves a ring and a canonization into sainthood for putting up with you for all these years.” 

     Seungcheol turns solemn, abruptly different from his mood earlier, “Yeah, Jihoon really does.” 

     Seungcheol had been very private about his relationship not really caring to share with others, especially once they debuted and Jeonghan was no exception. So it’s surprising that it slipped out now or maybe Seungcheol had finally decided that Jeonghan can be trusted? “Wow, have we finally reached a stage in our work relationship where I can finally know more about the lovely Jihoon-ssi?”

     Seungcheol acts surprised, like Jeonghan had snapped him out of a trance, before he chuckles and playfully punches Jeonghan’s shoulder, “Ahaha, don’t push your luck.”

     Seungcheol’s punch actually hurt and Jeonghan winces.

 

\------

 

     Today had just turned out to be a very weird day. Boo Seungkwan, one of the most social kids in school, had gone to talk to him, the class outcast. Albeit it in a very suspicious manner in that Chan was snagged into an abandoned classroom just as he was heading to the locker rooms for Physical Education. And with the weirdest question (?);

     “Take me to the Tattoo shop you work for– I’m willing to pay any amount of money!”


	3. can't see where it's wandered to

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jisoo is a bleeding heart doing dangerous and incredibly ill-advised things to satisfy his own urges.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't noticed by now, the chapter titles are lyrics from Sam Smith's songs (this one and last chapter's, in particular, is from his song "Make It To Me"). I have a whole playlist chock full of his songs titled ANGSTANGSTANGST. I kid you not.

     Jisoo liked volunteering at the hospital. It felt like he was doing some good while he tried to stave off the overwhelming feeling of loneliness he always seemed to have. He mostly keeps himself limited to reading books to children or accompanying the elderly to the garden facilities to ease them. He yearns to do more; knows that he could. But he never did finish his doctoral degree. Mother was adamantly against it and by the time he’s only a few credits away from getting his PhD, whatever drove him to go for medicine had faded away into nothing and left the little boy in Jisoo who could never defy his mother.

     He mostly does administrative work for the church now, earning enough to live modestly. He is content with his life. But Jisoo is terribly lonely and empty and sometimes he just thinks of taking those classes and finally finishing something for himself. So he’ll drink a couple pills and go to sleep, willing such thoughts to fade into oblivion.

 

\-----

 

     He’s about to miss his bus and it’s raining and he forgot to bring an umbrella and Boo Seungkwan is following him down the hallways, hiding behind people and lockers, unsuccessfully fooling anyone into not minding his presence. Chan knew he’d always wished for someone to talk to him, someone to at least acknowledge he exists but he didn’t quite anticipate it would be fulfilled in this manner. He would regret it but unfortunately, he really  _is_  that starved for companionship.

     Just as he’s about to pass the threshold of their school where the rain poured, he turns around abruptly, resulting in Seungkwan almost knocking him back from the impact. “Yah! Watch where you’re going will you?” He shouts, dusting off his pressed cardigan. Chan tries to raise an eyebrow, it shakes with the foreign action that he’s seen Wonwoo do plenty of times, “Sorry, I wasn’t aware I had a s-stalker to watch out for.”

     Chan would have felt better if he hadn’t stuttered but Seungkwan sputters, so he counts it as a win. Seungkwan trying to gather thoughts for a rebuttal is amusing enough that Chan would be content in letting him continue but people have started staring and it felt like it was burning through his skin. He pulls the other boy outside, getting licks of rain on them before settling underneath the awning of a nearby convenience store, before asking the question that’s been bugging him since earlier, “How do you know about my part time job?”

     “I may have overhead from some people…” Seungkwan pointedly doesn’t look at him. But people meant, person _s–_ plural _._ Chan could not have that.

     Chan had been careful not to touch the other boy, due to some stigma about skin he’d always had but he’s too worried about the possibility of being kicked out of school to care as he grabs Seungkwan’s wrists, “ _What_  people?”

     Seungkwan makes a move to wring his hands but stops after realizing he can’t, while looking anywhere but at Chan. They stay that way for a long moment, the rain refusing to let up as much as the tension refused to simmer down.

     Seungkwan’s surprised when Chan lets go of him. He sports an easy smile while patting off Seungkwan’s shoulders, “Why don’t we start heading off to the shop then?”

 

\------

 

     Sometimes, Jisoo has these terrible impulses of wanting to help someone so badly, his fingers would refuse to stop twitching and his eyes loses their ability to focus on any one thing aside from the thing he needed,  _so badly_ , to help. Today, it happens when he sees a boy, couldn’t be anything but a boy with his thin arms and slight build, covered in bruises. Black, blue, red, purple, yellow and green– it was so vivid and picturesque, like blotches of carelessly but artfully splashed paint on a pure white canvas, it made Jisoo want to puke. 

 

     The pull in him is so violent and he means to tell himself that there was nothing he could do. But he looks over the boy, laid out on one of the beds in the ER, without any attendants nor an IV drip connected to his arm. He looks around, noting how everyone was just so busy that no one paid any mind to their surroundings. In a burst of uncharacteristic bravery, he adjusts his scrubs, pocketing the little name tag that held his name and a tacked on ”volunteer”, getting ready to do something unquestionably unethical. He strides, as confidently as he could muster, towards where the boy laid. He closes the blue curtains around the cubicle, putting on gloves, the equipment thankfully laid out and ready to use. He uses sterile wipes, just to be sure. He’s careful when he turns the boy’s– the  _patient’s_ arm palms up. His eyes stray to a Mark, a thin slanted base cleft on the inner side of a pale wrist, not sure if it’s their original Mark or the Mark of their loved one. He shakes the thought away to focus on the task at hand. 

 

     He gets to disinfecting and cleaning the open wounds that are visible to him. He carefully covers the large bruises with cooling ointment to help alleviate the swelling and some of the pain. Reading over his chart, the patient’s set for an IV drip which has already been delivered by one of the nurses. He knows where he’s supposed to pierce skin for the IV but he stalls to buoy the unknown courage pushing his actions. His hands don’t shake as he taps the needle’s end to ensure no air bubbles will cause complications  _because God he could kill this boy if he doesn’t do it right._ He slides it through skin and into the vein, and then used the medical tape to secure it on the patient’s arm. It’s all said and done in minutes but his hands shake as he tries to arrange everything back to its rightful place. A muffled sound stops him as he was about to slip away, a whimper of pain is what pulls him back towards the boy. There is not much he could do anymore, except pray for his speedy recovery, but still Jisoo tries to do more. He leaves candy for the boy. Chocolate is good for blood circulation, if he recalls correctly. 

 

\------

 

     It’s no secret that Seungkwan’s filthy rich. It had been an issue that blew up even before Chan went to Hanseong High School. Why was someone from the better neighborhood--Gangnam of all places--going to their small private school? Nobody knew and it was still talked about now, as Chan was ending his first year in the institutionalized hell called school.

     So, naturally, he leads Seungkwan on a merry goose chase to the shadiest parts of town. The sun’s setting and there was only a couple measly lamp posts, flickering lazily, to light their way. At this point, Seungkwan had long lost his courageous front and was clutching onto the leather strap of his school bag while keeping himself close behind Chan. It feels odd to experience another person’s hot breath fan itself on the nape of his neck and it makes him vaguely uncomfortable, so he stops at a random store front. It’s metal rails are pulled down, the edges chipping with rust and the store sign so faded that none of the words can be read except for a shaky “–op”. 

     “Huh. It’s closed.” He turns back to Seungkwan with the same smile he’d sported, hours ago under a store awning much like the one they’re under now, “I guess we’ll just have to go back some other time.”

     He’s well aware that the other was not up for another trip to the garbage infested narrow streets of the less glamorous neighborhoods in Seoul but Chan was feeling vindictive today and there weren’t a lot of opportunities for him to vent his frustrations on someone.

     Seungkwan has a worried look on his face, biting down on his bottom lip, shaking from the cold seeping in through his clothes from being wet and out in the streets but still he says, “Sure! When do you think is a good time?” 

     It just really irritated Chan, so  _so_  much. How can anyone be so naive? Can’t he see that Chan had been leading him around with no intention of ever bringing him into the shop? There was no way he’d let anybody get proof and have him kicked out for having a part time job at a  _Tattoo_ shop. 

 

     “Never,” He looks Seungkwan straight in the eyes, “I’m never going to take you to the shop. So leave me alone and don’t tell anyone about my part-time job. If you do,” He pauses, as if to think about it, taking the time to lean forward in Seungkwan’s space, “I’ll tell everyone that you wanted to get a  _tattoo_.” He turns and walks away, not bothering to stay for the other boy’s response. There was no way Seungkwan was going to risk his status over humiliating him. He just hopes the other doesn’t realize that no one would believe whatever Chan says anyway. 

 

\------

 

     The living room lights are on and the buzzing of the television is the only noise that greeted him once Jun got home from an eight hour shift at the grocery store. He’s told Minghao countless of times that he shouldn’t bother waiting for Jun to come home, but seeing the younger’s peaceful sleeping expression makes him pause. The soft noise of him breathing in and out with the rising and falling of his chest in his curled up form on the too small couch never fails to melt away Jun’s exhaustion, if only for a bit. He drapes a blanket on Minghao, tucking the pillow under his head more securely before turning off the lights and bidding him a soft good night.

     Tomorrow will be an 18 hour day for Jun but it definitely helped. Feeling needed, that is.


	4. Only Fools Fall For You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's important to know when you're doing something foolish but it's just as important to have the ability to stop, following this realization. 
> 
> Seungkwan doesn't realize, Jihoon lacks the ability to stop it and Jeonghan's struggling to find a way. Wonwoo may just be the one most capable of being a normal, functioning human being out of them all and he's the one being called a hedonist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was honestly so hard to write. Many thanks to Naegahosh, for supporting me during my struggle to crank this chapter out. And I know I'm bad at replying to comments but it's only because I hoard them and look at them for days bc I love the warmth they bring me and by the time I realize I haven't replied-- it's been /days/. I'm sorry and I love you, readers. Thank you so much for leaving a comment, a kudos and subscribing!!! I hope you enjoy this chapter.

 In retrospect, all the things he did to Seungkwan was greatly unlike him. Was it the weather? The giddiness from having someone to talk to? The fact that Seungkwan technically held information that can get him kicked out of school?

 

    No, it wasn’t any of those.

 

    It was the nervous palpitations he felt when the other boy refused to tell him how he  _knew_. It unnerved Chan to know that as much as he liked observing others, he didn’t like being observed himself. He felt raw and exposed and he’d treated Seungkwan horribly.

 

    When Monday came, Chan expects to be escorted out of the school premises on grounds of failing to uphold the principle rules of Hanseong High School. He’d sat through all his classes before he realizes that, no, the other shoe was not going to drop. He wants to confront Seungkwan but he realizes that he didn’t even know which class the other boy belonged to. He was still mulling over how to find the other when an umbrella is thrust to his chest.

 

    It has frills in the pattern of yellow and pink polka dots and apparently Seungkwan thought he needed it? 

 

    “You’re gonna need it– the forecast said it may rain again.”

 

    “I don’t–”

 

    “Look, I know you don’t care but,” He clutches a matching umbrella, one with blue and green polka dots, while gnawing on his bottom lip, “But I really,  _really_ need to see a  _you-know-what_  and I wouldn’t trust just anyone, so I came to you because you seem like a nice kid, okay?”

 

    Seungkwan barely takes a breathe before launching on to a longer tirade on how shady tattoo artists are and how he couldn’t really just ask anyone. But Chan had already been ready to nod his head and lead him to the end of the rainbow if Seungkwan wanted, because  _no one_ has ever told Chan that he was a nice _anything._

    “I’ve also made sure to shut those other guys up– they won’t dare breathe a word.”

 

    “Okay.”

 

    “And also I’ll– wait, okay?”

 

    “Okay.”

 

    “O-okay then!”

 

 

    They get dropped off in Seungkwan’s Lexus– the other doesn’t know how to drive yet but he had a chauffeur for that anyway. Chan only feels a little jealous; he liked being able to observe people in the bus, so he’s not as bothered. Seungkwan is visibly surprised that they’re in the lush downtown area of Seoul. The sign is minimal, written in thin cursive on a wooden plank painted in white. “Adore You” greets them and Seungkwan thinks they may be in the wrong place. Chan just shakes his head with a chuckle, swinging open the glass door that led down a staircase. Hopefully Wonwoo-hyung won’t scare away his-- dare he say it?-- new friend.

 

* * *

 

 

    It’s raining again. They wait in silence, for what, Jihoon doesn’t know. Mingyu can’t drive yet and he doesn’t have his bus pass on him, so possibly, they’re just standing still with nowhere to be. The itch under his skin from the silence is something he’s long gotten used to—but not with Mingyu. Mingyu was supposed to fill all the empty spaces with his soothing voice. He isn’t, right now.

 

    “What did you tell them?” He’s terse, his words clipped. It becomes more evident, how much taller Mingyu was than Jihoon, as his shoulders tighten and his gaze pointedly look towards the ground.

 

    He contemplates not answering. Let the rain swallow his words and silence reign. “I fell against the opened cupboard and the plates and mugs fell on me.” He didn’t.

 

    A strange sound comes from bellow Mingyu’s throat. It takes a while for it to register as chuckles. Jihoon has heard all the different types of laughter Mingyu was capable of; the one that’s loud and obnoxious that ends with a high pitched  _hee_ ; the one that’s barely a laugh, more of a snort, a quick intake of garbled breath; the one that’s shocked out of him, slow to start but warm in its conclusion—this was none of those. It’s a tired sound. And he manages to sound simultaneously like he’s about to scream and like he’s choking back tears. Jihoon looks up to say something, interrupt whatever is happening because he didn’t like it. But Mingyu’s already walking away into the rain.

 

    He’s soaked and he turns to face Jihoon, who’s still standing under the safety of the hospital’s front entrance, as a car pulls over in front of him. Someone comes out of the driver’s seat, holding an umbrella. Mingyu gestures toward Jihoon, his eyes remaining pinned to Jihoon’s quivering form, dwarfed in a large blanket.

 

    It’s bad. Because Mingyu hated calling on his family chauffer.

 

* * *

 

 

    Wonwoo is glad that Chan had made a friend. Really, he is.

 

    “Why is it so nice and clean?” But did he have to make friends with a little shit?

 

    He starts prepping, intent on getting this over with as fast as he can. But before that, “You must be over eighteen years of age in order to lawfully receive a tattoo without parental consent.” It’s not often that he gets to say this line, but he had to keep the business as above board as possible—too many people wanted tattoo shops shut down as it is, no need to give them a legitimate reason.

 

    The boy reluctantly hands over his identification, visibly trying not to touch fingers with him. Wonwoo just raises an eyebrow while shooting a look towards Chan. What did the boy think he did for a living? Kill people?

 

    His other eyebrow shoots up to follow the other as he reads his date of birth. The 16th of January. Someone was eager. Too eager because it’s obvious that he’s exactly six days early, it’s only the 10th. Underneath the I.D. are a couple of bills and Wonwoo smirks. This kid thinks he can bribe him.

 

    He nods, and with a welcoming smile, he ushers his  _customer_ towards the reclining leather chair. He goes to the back to fetch the prank coil machine equipped with an inch wide needle he’d received from a particularly friendly customer.

 

    He sets it down on the metal tray right next to the boy’s arm, deliberately slow in cleaning and assembling the tattoo machine.

    “Um, isn’t that a little…big?”

 

    “Oh, you wanted a smaller needle?” The boy nods, eyes hopeful. Wonwoo smiles, his eyes crinkling shut, teeth gleaming under the fluorescent light.

 

    “Sorry, this is the only one we have for today—we can have a smaller needle arranged at a later date, if you want?” He asks, as he starts testing the coil machine. Ever the trusty tool that it was, it made ominous buzzing sounds that sent the brat quivering into the leather recliner.

 

    “Alright, I’ll see you in six days then.”  Wonwoo waves the boy out, pushing his school bag towards his chest, before resolving to have a talk with Chan.

 

* * *

 

 

    Seventeen. Two boys who barely knew what they were doing. It’s a wonder, how far they got when they were just nothing but naive little birds in the vulture’s den. Jeonghan’s hair is glossier than he remembers it ever being and his skin was as clear as the purified water especially bought for them. But he feels dirty and weary and everything is unpleasant. For every note about empty sentiments of love that left his lips, he feels like barfing a thousand unpleasant words; for every service he does for the fans, he feels a piece of himself crumbling away; for every time he laid awake at night staring up at nothing, he feels the void within him grow bigger– there was something missing and he wasn’t going to find it where he was now. 

 

    The van stops and he’s ushered off inside the hospital. Today, he was supposed to make a “surprise” visit to the children’s wing of Seonpyang Hospital. Seungcheol’s supposed to be with him but apparently something important came up. Jeonghan wishes he could say the same but there’s only two of them, so the duty falls on him. Gotta keep up their image, the company says. Gotta put on your face, Jeonghan thinks.

 

* * *

 

 

    Jihoon can’t tell how many times he’s thought of leaving. How many times he’s folded his clothes into a bag, looked up flight tickets and came so close to stepping one foot outside their apartment door. Can’t tell how many letters addressed to Seungcheol, stained with words of  _good bye_  and  _I love you_ and  _I’m_   _sorry_ s, he’s sneaked out late at night to throw into the incinerator. He can’t tell and he hopes Seungcheol won’t ever find out.

 

    “Hyung, you…you know it can’t keep going on like this?” Half an hour into traffic and the incessant beeping of Mingyu’s phone, Mingyu finally speaks again but he really doesn’t need Mingyu’s constant beseeching. He knows. Jihoon knows perfectly well.

 

    “I know, Mingyu-ah.” He’s tired of this. Mingyu takes Jihoon’s hand in his and it’s warm. It makes him want to melt into oblivion.

 

    “Hyung,” Mingyu tightens his hold, biting his lip before looking to Jihoon’s half-lidded eyes. He pockets his phone, still vibrating,”I have a plan. To spirit you away.”

 

    He couldn’t help it, a small huff escapes him. Mingyu doesn’t waiver and Jihoon’s tired, so he gives him a non-committal nod of the head. The first smile Jihoon’s seen on Mingyu’s face today lights his face up brighter than the sun. It would be endearing, if it wasn’t so fucking depressing.

 

    “Hyung, I can get you to our vacation home—the one in Jeju. It’s really nice there—“

 

    “And it’s also you’re parent’s. It’s not yours to lend.”

 

    “I’ll ask them. I’ll make them a deal they can’t turn down. Then, we can invite your parents to stay with you—“

 

    “I haven’t talked to them in over a year. They didn’t take well to my choice in lovers, remember?”

 

    “Well…then I can move there and stay with you! That’s easy enough.”

 

    “What about my job?”

 

    “I can find you a different job, something to do with music too!”

 

    “No one will want to hire someone who can’t abide by their contracts and word spreads fast in the industry. Even if we try, Seungcheol will know then.”

 

    And that’s just what it is. Seungcheol. It was like he’d emptied out Jihoon and took the largest chunk of space within Jihoon’s life and stuck himself there. Gave him a job, an apartment, insisted he paid for every single thing even when Jihoon vehemently refused and it was sweet. It was sweet until he started throwing it all back to Jihoon’s face. Really, it was Jihoon’s fault, for letting himself get so dependent. He’d just woken up one day, buried in Seungcheol’s sheets with Seungcheol’s arms around him inside Seungcheol’s apartment and realized he was in too deep and there were no life guards.

 

    He can see the cogs continuing to turn in Mingyu’s head so he stops it short, “Hyung is tired,” He squeezes Mingyu’s hand, “Can I borrow your shoulder?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is taken from Troye Sivan's "Fools". Another wonderful song added to my AngstAngstAngst playlist.


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